


of loth cats and love confessions

by luckee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up Together, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Padawan Anakin Skywalker, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Puberty, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24863509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckee/pseuds/luckee
Summary: In which Obi-Wan Kenobi is an eleven-year-old youngling when Anakin Skywalker arrives at the Jedi Temple. Things go differently from there.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 44
Kudos: 719





	of loth cats and love confessions

**Author's Note:**

> A soft anthology of how things might’ve been.
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://luckee.tumblr.com/). :)

Obi-Wan was practicing basic Soresu forms in the crèche when Anakin Skywalker first came into his life.

Master Jinn and Master Windu had just returned to the Temple that afternoon. It was the talk of the crèche: the first Sith Lord in a thousand years, defeated by the two Masters when they were helping to liberate the planet of Naboo.

Obi-Wan was the only youngling in the crèche’s common area when Master Jinn walked in with a boy trailing after him. The boy walked right up to Obi-Wan and quirked his head as if assessing him. “Are you a Padawan?”

Obi-Wan decided he already didn’t like the boy. “Not yet, but I will be.”

“But you’re old enough to be a Padawan.”

“What do you know about Padawans?” Obi-Wan snapped.

Master Jinn interrupted whatever the boy was about to say by placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to let you settle in here. Obi-Wan can introduce you to one of the crèchemasters and they’ll get you to your new room.”

With that the Jedi Master turned to leave. The boy watched him go before turning back to Obi-Wan with a smug look on his face. “He told me I’m going to be a Jedi.”

Obi-Wan snorted. Whoever this boy was, he was only a year or so younger than him. He was way too old to be raised in the crèche to become a Jedi. “Who _are_ you?”

“I’m Anakin Skywalker. Who are you?”

His lip curled. “Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“Are you going to take me to the crèchemasters or not?” Anakin prompted.

Obi-Wan was strongly considering leaving this annoying boy to figure things out on his own. But eventually he sighed and muttered, “Fine. Follow me.”

That night, Anakin sneaked into his room.

Obi-Wan had been drifting off to sleep when he heard his door creak open. Facing the wall, he had to roll over to see the intruder—Anakin, of course, hugging a pillow to his chest.

“What are you doing in here?” Obi-Wan said.

“I’m not used to sleeping alone,” Anakin said. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

“You should go back to your own room,” Obi-Wan said, both because this boy was irritating and because he knew he'd also get in trouble if Anakin was found missing from his room. Obi-Wan flipped back over and tried to go back to sleep.

Silence. And then some shuffling around his room. 

He checked over his shoulder. Anakin was lying on the floor beside Obi-Wan’s chest of clothes.

“You can’t sleep on my floor.”

“Well I don’t want to be alone,” Anakin said stubbornly, clutching his pillow. 

Obi-Wan stared at him for a long while, waiting for him to get too cold and leave. But Anakin seemed fairly content to snuggle up on the hard floor, even though Obi-Wan knew that couldn’t possibly be true. What he really needed to do was drag the boy back to his own room.

“If you aren’t going to go back to your own room,” Obi-Wan finally relented, “Then at least sleep in a bed.”

Not a second later and Anakin was climbing in under the sheets. Obi-Wan shifted himself and his pillow over to make room the best he could, but the crèche beds weren’t made for two people. They had just enough room to not be touching with Anakin curled up on his side, facing away from him. Obi-Wan turned around as well, and it was almost like Anakin wasn’t there.

“Thank you.”

After a moment, Obi-Wan said, “Go to sleep.”

* * *

A week after Anakin arrived at the Temple, the Council made the decision that he should stay in the crèche. Master Yoda had visited the crèche to evaluate Anakin’s control of the Force and his general aptitude for being trained. He had apparently determined that Anakin needed more time to adjust to his new life at the Temple.

Anakin had immediately gone looking for him after being informed of the Council’s decision.

“They’re not going to make me a Padawan yet!” he complained upon finding him in the crèche’s training room. Anakin flopped down on the mat next to him in a huff while Obi-Wan finished up his last set of practice katas.

“It’s probably for the best,” Obi-Wan said. “I mean, you only just got here.”

“But Master Jinn said he would start training me right away as his Padawan!”

His heart dropped at the words. Master Jinn was someone that Obi-Wan had long thought might be his Master one day. He supposed it made sense; the crèchemasters were talking about Anakin as if he was some kind of _Chosen One,_ blessed by the Force. Of course Master Jinn would want him as his Padawan. “Most of us have been at the Temple as long as we can remember. You have a lot to learn about the Jedi before you can train to become a Jedi.”

Anakin’s nose scrunched up. “That sounds boring.”

“Well you have to if you want to be a Jedi.” Obi-Wan held out a hand. “Come on.”

Anakin eyed him suspiciously but accepted his hand to help him up and followed him out of the training room. 

The crèche had its own library, a much smaller scale version of the Great Jedi Library. Obi-Wan found himself in there often, especially now that most of his friends had aged out of the crèche. Obi-Wan got along well enough with the other younglings, but he had always found it easier to make friends with people older than him. That became a problem when they all started to leave to start their Padawan training or join the Service Corps and he didn’t.

Obi-Wan quickly located the book he was looking for and handed it to Anakin. “Start here. It’s an overview of the Code that all of the Jedi follow.”

Anakin stared down at the book in his hands for a long moment. Obi-Wan had to strain to hear his mumble. “I’m not very good at reading Basic.”

That startled Obi-Wan. He was nine years old, how could he not read Basic? It took him a minute to remember that Anakin had been a slave in the Outer Rim up until a week ago.

“How about I read some of it to you?”

They ended up spending most of the evening on one of the library couches, with Obi-Wan reading passages about the Jedi Code and Anakin leaning into his side to follow along on the page.

* * *

“Get back here!”

Obi-Wan laughed, only running harder in response. Anakin was chasing him around the Room of a Thousand Fountains, play lightsaber swinging wildly. Obi-Wan had his own play lightsaber, and he’d managed to land a solid hit to Anakin’s elbow before darting away.

Obi-Wan had just enough time to climb up the foundation of a tall waterfall before Anakin caught up to him. 

“How’d you get up there?” Anakin demanded breathlessly.

“Natural talent.” Obi-Wan smirked, peering down over the edge to taunt him. Anakin didn’t need to know that he _might_ have used the Force to give himself a boost. They technically weren’t supposed to use the Force except for emergencies, but there weren’t exactly any crèchemasters around to find out.

Obi-Wan could see the gears turning in Anakin’s head right before the boy backed up and started to run. He barely had time to call out a warning before Anakin launched himself up the wall. He greatly overestimated his need for the Force and wound up flying over Obi-Wan’s head into the well of the fountain. 

For a few harrowing seconds Obi-Wan wondered if he would need to dive in after him, but then Anakin came crawling out of the water, soaking wet with his clothes clinging to him. Obi-Wan couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore. 

“You look like a drowned loth cat,” he said.

Anakin bristled, further proving the resemblance. “This is your fault,” he said miserably.

When they got back to the crèche there were two younglings in the common room. The conversation trailed off as they turned to look at them.

“What happened to you?” By’ala said to Anakin, narrowly looking him up and down. 

“That’s none of your business,” Anakin snapped.

“What happened? Did you discover water for the first time, slave boy?” Kai jeered.

The bite in the boy’s voice rattled Obi-Wan. The other younglings had not warmed up to Anakin very well—understandably so, he was a latecomer and had an attitude problem—but never had someone been so blatantly hostile.

Obi-Wan marched forward before Anakin could react. “Don’t you dare talk to him like that again,” he threatened as menacingly as he could, rising up to his full height and glaring down at Kai. “Or I will make you regret it.” 

He didn’t wait for an answer, tugging Anakin down the hall to their rooms. 

A thankfully clean and dry Anakin crept into his room that night. After he had settled in on his side of the bed, Anakin spoke up. “You know, I can defend myself. You don’t need to say things like that to them.”

Obi-Wan flipped over to look at Anakin, who was staring up at the ceiling. “Of course I do. You’re my friend.”

Anakin studied him for a long moment before replying. “You’re my friend, too.”

* * *

Anakin was bouncing on the balls of his feet, poorly trying to contain his excitement when Obi-Wan found him in his room with one of the crèche’s nanny droids.

“What did you do?”

Anakin grinned conspiratorially. “I reprogrammed its voice commands.”

“Where did you get the tools for that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Anakin said, kicking a toolbox under his bed. “Guess what it can say now.”

Obi-Wan considered it. “Something bad?”

Anakin rolled his eyes. “Obviously it’s something bad. Never mind, it’ll be a surprise.”

That night during dinner, one of the droids accidentally dropped a plate on the floor.

“Fuck!”

Anakin was assigned to a week of clean-up duty after that, along with being forced to reset the droid back to its original voice commands.

“It was worth it, though,” Anakin said to him later that night. Obi-Wan had to agree.

* * *

As soon as Anakin spotted him, his face lit up in a grin that Obi-Wan found impossible not to match.

“Obi-Wan!” 

Anakin dashed across the hangar to him, nearly running _into_ him, and pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan managed to wheeze out through his constricted lungs. “You’re back.”

“Obi-Wan, it was _so cool!_ I have so many stories to tell you.”

They went to the Room of a Thousand Fountains for Anakin to share all the details of his week-long retreat with Master Jinn. Anakin talked animatedly and Obi-Wan listened, nodding along and asking questions when appropriate. In truth he found himself more interested in simply having Anakin near him again, walking in step together around the greenhouse.

Eventually they ended up in their favorite tree. They had found it a year ago; it had the perfect nook in the branches for them to sit together and it was leafy enough to keep them hidden from disapproving eyes.

“You’re going to enjoy having him as your Master,” Obi-Wan said, truly meaning it.

Anakin bobbed his head earnestly in agreement before his face fell. “Have you… have any of the Masters talked to you recently?”

“You know they haven’t,” Obi-Wan said with a wry smile.

“I don’t get it,” Anakin huffed, and now his face was twisted in anger. 

Obi-Wan shrugged, not wanting to continue the conversation. He didn’t really want to think about only having five more months until he aged out of the crèche. 

Anakin shifted closer to him on the branch before ducking forward and kissing him on the lips.

“What was that?” Obi-Wan pulled back, eyes wide and startled.

Anakin shrugged, grinning toothily. “People kiss each other all the time.”

“Yes, but why did you kiss me?”

“I missed you.” 

And Obi-Wan had missed him too, more than he wanted to admit. Seven days was by far the longest that he and Anakin had gone without seeing each other, and he had found himself listless and bored during their time apart. He knew it was a sign of attachment. Another personal failing that the Masters probably saw in him.

“Next time, warn me before you kiss me. I almost fell.”

* * *

Obi-Wan started to hear more and more rumblings around the Temple that Master Jinn was going to ask Anakin to be his Padawan.

It was inevitable. Master Jinn had always made his interest in training Anakin clear. After all, Master Jinn had been one of the Masters to find Anakin, and while Master Windu already had his own Padawan, Master Jinn had not trained anyone as long as Obi-Wan could remember.

It was inevitable, and he was happy for his best friend, but it also created a lump of dread in his stomach.

Because if Master Jinn chose Anakin as his Padawan, there weren’t any other Masters who would take on Obi-Wan’s apprenticeship. Most already had Padawans, and those who didn’t had never taken any interest in him.

Obi-Wan was ten days away from his thirteenth birthday when Master Jinn came into the crèche and asked for Anakin. At the same time, Master Yoda came in asking for him.

“Troubled, your tutelage under Master Bondara has been. Too proud, you are.”

Obi-Wan had to restrain from jumping to defend himself. He knew if Master Yoda was speaking to him about this that his fate was already determined. “I’m sorry I’ve failed you, Master.”

“Still hope for you, there is,” Master Yoda said. “Sending you to Bandomeer, the Council is. Learn much about humility and brotherhood there, you will.”

Anakin came bursting into his room an hour later. His face was red and furious. “They’re sending you away!”

“I know that,” Obi-Wan said bluntly, gesturing to the bags laid out on his bed. 

“But they can’t do that!” Anakin insisted. 

“I wasn’t chosen for an apprenticeship by thirteen. This is just how it goes.” He exhaled slowly, trying to clamp down on his own anger. “Did Qui-Gon ask you to be his Padawan?”

A wealth of conflicting emotions flashed across Anakin’s face. “Yes, but—I told him I didn’t want to be his Padawan unless he also made you his Padawan.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Obi-Wan said. “You know a Master can only have one Padawan. Besides, he didn’t choose me, he chose you.” He paused his packing for a moment and turned to face Anakin. “I’m happy for you, Anakin,” he said warmly, and realized he meant it.

“I don’t want to be a Padawan without you,” Anakin said stubbornly. “I won’t let you leave.”

“Well, you have to,” Obi-Wan said.

Anakin stormed out of his room without another word. 

The next day, Obi-Wan boarded a small transport destined for Bandomeer. The ship was mostly cargo but there were a few AgriCorps members on the journey with him, and they seemed friendly enough. Though he wasn’t much in the mood for talking. 

Anakin had been absent all morning. He hadn’t even bothered to come to the hangar to say goodbye.

Obi-Wan was sulking by himself in one of the cargo bays when Anakin waltzed in.

“Anakin! What the kriff are you doing here?” Obi-Wan hissed, wondering how in the galaxy he managed to sneak on board. But he couldn’t deny the rush of excitement he felt at seeing Anakin.

“I told you I wouldn’t let you leave,” Anakin said as if it was obvious, hopping up to sit on the crate across from him.

Obi-Wan frowned at the reminder. “You’re just going to get yourself in trouble. They’re going to want you back at the Temple.”

“That’s the point! I’m not going back until they make you a Padawan.”

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose, simultaneously annoyed and deeply touched by Anakin’s willfulness. “You’re _going_ to get in trouble.”

Sure enough, as soon as the AgriCorps lead caught sight of Anakin disembarking the transport, he held up a hand to stop him. “Excuse me. Who are you?” 

“I’m Anakin!” He grinned, showing all of his teeth. “The Council is probably looking for me. You can tell them that I’m not coming back to the Temple unless Obi-Wan can come with.”

* * *

“It’s so spiky!” Anakin reached out and ruffled his freshly shorn hair. 

Obi-Wan scowled, batting his hand away. “So is yours.”

“Yeah, but mine’s not as bad.”

Master Jinn entered the room. “Who’s first?”

“Me!” Anakin exclaimed, scampering over. Master Jinn pulled out a chair to sit on and began braiding Anakin’s lone lock of hair.

Obi-Wan watched from the other side of the crèche room, feeling almost like an intruder. Receiving one’s Padawan braid was a sacred thing, usually done without bystanders, a moment shared only by Master and Padawan.

“There you go, Anakin,” Master Jinn said. Considering Anakin didn’t have much hair to start with, the braid was short, and curled up at the end. Anakin bounced off the chair looking positively gleeful. “Your turn, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan had a bit more hair to work with so it took Master Jinn longer to braid it. While the crèchemasters were cutting their hair it hadn’t quite sunk in yet that he was officially a Padawan learner. But now the gentle tugging at his scalp as Master Jinn twisted his hair into a plait was threatening to make his bottled up emotions spill over. Obi-Wan forcefully pushed them back down. He could not show weakness in front of his new Master.

“You’re done,” Master Jinn said, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. He stood, looking around. “Where are your rooms? We’ll need to bring your things.”

They gathered up their scant belongings the best they could, needing Master Jinn to help carry some of it. He took them up to one of the highest levels of the Temple.

“Normally these apartments are shared by just one Master and Padawan,” Master Jinn explained as they entered their new rooms. The main room and kitchen had a pretty view of the Coruscant skyline. “But I have an office that we’re converting into an extra bedroom for one of you.”

The office was small and cluttered with bookcases and other miscellaneous things, but Obi-Wan decided right away that he would take it. He was settling in when Master Jinn appeared in the doorway.

“Someone’s bringing a bed this afternoon. We’ll get the desk moved out as well.”

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan ducked his head down. “I’m sorry I’m taking your office.”

Master Jinn crossed the room and knelt down by Obi-Wan where he was sorting through his clothes. A hand landed on his shoulder and again Obi-Wan had to force down a wave of emotion. “I know this has been a difficult journey for you. But you’re my Padawan now. Remember that.”

Obi-Wan nodded, not feeling capable of anything more. His Master left him alone to unpack.

He couldn’t even pretend to be surprised when his door squeaked open that night. 

“You’re going to have to start sleeping in your own room. Master Jinn’s going to think it’s weird if you’re sleeping in here.”

Anakin came to sit on the end of Obi-Wan’s new bed. Obi-Wan could just make out his form by the distant lights flickering in through the window. He was hunched over, looking down at the sheets.

“I miss my mom.”

Obi-Wan sat up. “Maybe Master Jinn will let you go visit her now that you’re a Padawan.”

Anakin shook his head morosely. “That’s not the Jedi way. I’m supposed to leave my old life behind.”

Obi-Wan knew that, too.

He was fidgeting with his hands now. “I want her to know I’m a Padawan now. I wanted her to be here today to see.”

Obi-Wan stayed quiet, wanting to let Anakin speak. 

“Sometimes I want to go home just to see her,” Anakin confessed into the dark, voice barely above a whisper. His head shot up. “But then I’d have to leave you, and I couldn’t do that.”

Obi-Wan scooted down on the bed and wrapped his arms around Anakin’s slumped form. After a beat Anakin relaxed into his hold, leaning on him and letting his head fall onto Obi-Wan’s shoulder. 

“Considering all the trouble you just caused us, I would be pretty mad at you if you decided to leave the Order now.”

Anakin stayed in his arms for a little while longer before he returned to his own room.

* * *

“Did you get it?”

Obi-Wan held up the bottle from behind his back and shook it in answer.

Anakin’s eyes flashed deviously. “Come on, we gotta do this quick before he gets back!” They dashed off to the ‘fresher to set their plot in motion.

When Master Jinn returned from his off-planet mission, Anakin greeted him loudly. “You smell, Master!”

“Were the negotiations on a farm?” Obi-Wan added, crinkling his nose.

Master Jinn quirked a suspicious brow at them but headed to the ‘fresher anyway. “Alright, message received. I’m sorry I’ve offended your senses.”

They had to work very hard not to giggle the entire time they listened to the water run. Obi-Wan had to slap a hand over Anakin’s mouth more than once to keep him quiet. They sat on the couch, nearly vibrating with anticipation when the water finally shut off.

“Now I understand why you two wanted me to shower so badly,” Master Jinn said when he emerged from the ‘fresher.

Even damp, his hair was a bright, fluorescent pink. The color didn’t pick up as well on his graying hair, leaving his newly pink hair streaked with silver stripes.

Seeing it sent them into a laughing fit. Anakin was rolling on the floor while Master Jinn watched on calmly.

“Your hair looks great, Master,” Obi-Wan said, smiling as sweetly as he could.

“I have to agree, my Padawan,” Master Jinn said warmly. “I think the color brings out my eyes.”

That finally got Anakin to shut up, his head whipping around to stare mouth agape as Master Jinn went about fixing himself a meal in the kitchen.

“I think that backfired,” Obi-Wan concluded.

* * *

Around the age of fourteen, Obi-Wan started to wake up some days with a hard cock. Some mornings it was already leaking.

Of course, this shouldn’t have been much of an issue beyond requiring an extra step in the ‘fresher.

There was, however, the issue of Anakin.

Three years since Anakin had arrived at the Temple and he still crawled into Obi-Wan’s bed more nights than not. Anakin would always _start_ the night in his own bed, but Obi-Wan frequently woke up to the bed shifting under him in the middle of the night. His bed truly wasn’t big enough for both of them, only getting smaller as they got older. Anakin would at least try to be considerate and stick to his side of the bed when he climbed in.

But without fail, Anakin would be glued to his side by morning, limbs wrapped around him haphazardly, squishing Obi-Wan up against the wall.

Which sometimes put Obi-Wan in a tough spot.

He woke up one morning, hard and aching, and mentally cursed. Anakin was, predictably, latched onto his back, legs tangled up in Obi-Wan’s, arm holding him around the middle. Obi-Wan very carefully tried to lift Anakin’s arm off. As soon as he heard a snuffling sound behind him he froze. The bed shifted a bit and Anakin’s arm squeezed him more tightly. 

When Anakin’s breathing evened back out, Obi-Wan again attempted to pry his arm off.

“Mmm.” Anakin’s grip tightened, fingers flexing on Obi-Wan’s chest. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Obi-Wan said stiffly. “I need to use the ‘fresher.”

“Mmm, alright.” Anakin nuzzled his nose against Obi-Wan’s neck in the spot just below his ear and the sensation made him shiver. Then Anakin groaned and rolled over to the other side of the bed.

Obi-Wan tried to keep his front hidden from Anakin as inconspicuously as possible as he picked out a set of clothes and headed to the ‘fresher. 

It wasn’t until he got in the shower that he let out the breath he had been holding. It was the same routine nearly every morning, and so far he’d managed to avoid any suspicion. Sometimes he wondered if Anakin could sense it through their Force bond, but his shields seemed to be strong enough to keep Anakin out. _Thank the Force._ He would be mortified if Anakin ever caught on to his... problem.

* * *

Now three years into their Padawan training, Obi-Wan had grown used to Qui-Gon preferring Anakin over him to accompany him on missions. He understood; they were both still relevantly young and inexperienced, and it could be hard enough to wrangle in one troublemaking Padawan, much less two.

He and Anakin were _especially_ known to cause trouble when they were together.

Logically, it made sense that Qui-Gon would only bring one of them on the more delicate missions, but it never failed to send a little jab to his heart every time Anakin was inevitably chosen for the most exciting missions.

One day after lightsaber practice, Qui-Gon requested that Obi-Wan join him on an assignment in the Mid Rim.

“I’m going if Obi-Wan’s going,” Anakin cut in immediately.

“This is a civil affair and I want Obi-Wan with me for his peacekeeping ability,” their Master explained. “We’ll be back by tomorrow evening.”

“What if something goes wrong? I should be there,” Anakin argued.

“Nothing’s going to go wrong,” Qui-Gon said definitively. “There is a small dispute between clans, that’s all.”

Of course, something did go wrong. 

Anakin managed to finesse his way into tagging along, because _of course he did_. They were escorting the Matriarch and her advisors to a peace negotiation with the other clan when blastfire broke out in the crowded town square. 

Screams erupted and people scattered in all directions. Obi-Wan barely had a chance to react before another shot was fired and a bullet whizzed past his face, narrowly missing the Matriarch behind him.

Immediately Qui-Gon ushered their charges down a nearby alley. “We have to find better cover. Obi-Wan and Anakin, you guard from the tail.”

“But we have to go after them!” Anakin said.

Obi-Wan caught sight of something glinting in the sun. A blaster, about to take aim again. Lightsaber ignited, he bolted off in that direction, ignoring Qui-Gon’s shout.

It was during his chase through the panicking crowd that Obi-Wan learned there was a second shooter. A shot was fired from somewhere to his left, immediately followed by a neon flash of blue sprinting off in that direction.

Together he and Anakin managed to divert the shooters away from civilians and corner them into an enclosed courtyard. Obi-Wan deflected the slew of incoming blastfire while Anakin disarmed them, smashing their blasters against the ground. 

When Qui-Gon found them, the attempted assassins were sitting back to back with lightsabers at their necks.

“I bet you’re glad you brought me along now,” Anakin said by way of greeting.

“Considering you disobeyed my direct orders…” Qui-Gon surveyed the scene thoughtfully. “Although, it looks like you two made quite the team.”

* * *

Obi-Wan had always been taller than Anakin. Always, until Anakin turned fifteen and shot up in height over the course of a few months. He ended up a couple inches taller than him, which really wasn’t _that_ much taller, but Anakin loved to tease him about it and use that slight difference to his advantage, much to Obi-Wan’s chagrin.

It was Obi-Wan’s turn to cook that night. He was making a fairly basic Stewjoni dish. It was the same thing he usually made when it was his turn to make dinner, but Anakin and Qui-Gon always seemed pleased with it. Besides, they weren’t exactly good cooks either, so they didn’t have room to complain.

Anakin came back to the apartment dripping with sweat, having probably spent the afternoon in the training room. Obi-Wan sent a quick greeting over his shoulder but had to keep his eye on the stove. He was trying to maintain a very precarious simmer.

He felt the warmth of a body pressed up against his back right before a chin came down to rest his shoulder.

“Whatcha making?” Anakin asked, right next to his ear.

“You know what I’m making.” Obi-Wan continued stirring. He thought he might have felt hands ghosting over his hips but it must have been his imagination.

“Can I sample it?”

“No,” Obi-Wan said bluntly. “Now move, I need to get in the cabinets.”

“But it smells so good,” Anakin whined.

“It will taste even better if you let me cook it.” When Anakin didn't move he stepped a heel back on his foot. Anakin made an exaggerated noise of pain but didn’t budge, only crowding further into him to look down at the pot.

Obi-Wan huffed and decided his best course of action was to ignore him. He reached up into the cabinet above, having to lean back and get up on the balls of his feet to dig around for the specific spice he was looking for. Anakin made a choked off sound and that was his only warning before the weight at his back vanished.

Obi-Wan only found out where Anakin ran off to when he heard the shower switch on.

Fifteen minutes later Qui-Gon emerged from his room, enticed by the smell of food. 

“Anakin’s in the shower?” he guessed as he sat down at the table.

Obi-Wan snorted. “Of course.” They had actually started to bond over waiting for the ‘fresher.

“Might as well get started,” Qui-Gon decided and served himself a helping. 

Obi-Wan followed his lead. “He spends so kriffing long in the shower,” he groused. 

“Really can’t blame him at his age,” Qui-Gon said mildly.

Obi-Wan paused mid-bite. What? Oh. _Oh._ How had he not realized? He had of course... relieved his own arousal in the shower before, many times, but Anakin was taking long showers every single day, sometimes for more than an hour…

Force.

Anakin finally joined them at the dinner table when they were halfway finished, braid dripping water onto his tunic.

“Good day of training?” Qui-Gon asked.

Anakin nodded, hurrying to chew the famished bite he’d just taken. “Improving my Shien katas.”

“You’re getting very good at those,” Qui-Gon praised. “Although your form still isn’t as precise as Obi-Wan’s.”

Anakin made an indignant noise and immediately began to dispute it. Obi-Wan simply smirked into his glass.

It was Anakin’s turn to do the dishes, so after he finished eating Obi-Wan retired to his bed and picked out a book. The habit of reading before bed had developed in the crèche and had continued even after his Padawan training started to take up most of his time and energy. 

Anakin wandered into his room a half hour later and climbed into bed next to him.

“Can I help you?” Obi-Wan prompted.

Anakin snuggled in closer on his side, eyes slipping closed. “I want you to read to me.”

Obi-Wan eyed him suspiciously. “This book is about millenia-old philosophical theories. Are you sure you want to listen to that?”

“I’m really interested,” Anakin insisted around a yawn.

“Alright,” Obi-Wan said, and began to read aloud.

* * *

It was only a matter of time before Anakin’s recklessness nearly got him killed. 

Obi-Wan was just surprised it took as long as it did. 

They were on a jungle planet, called in by a local farming tribe that was being terrorized by a starving wild beast. Just how they had gotten in contact with the Jedi he didn’t know, but it was a simple enough task for a Jedi Master and his two Padawans. The plan was to carefully lure the beast away, far enough out that it would start to look for food elsewhere.

The beast was monstrously large and vicious-looking. They found it stomping through the underbrush just outside of the village.

As soon as Qui-Gon ignited his lightsaber, the beast went berserk.

It happened fast. The beast charged, slamming their Master into the ground. Obi-Wan rushed to Qui-Gon’s side and found him coherent but bleeding from his head.

“It’s headed straight for the village!” Anakin yelled, and without waiting for an answer he tore after it.

Obi-Wan only had a second to feel conflicted before Qui-Gon urged him to go after him.

When Obi-Wan caught up to Anakin he was already mid-fight, having managed to draw the beast’s attention. He leapt into the air, his lightsaber cutting through the tough hide of the beast’s shoulder, but the wound did nothing to slow it down. Angered, the beast screeched, and charged Anakin again. Anakin jumped away but the creature’s giant head whipped around at just the right moment to slam him against a tree and catch him between its teeth.

Obi-Wan felt Anakin’s pain tear through their bond. Anakin was frantically fighting to free himself from its jaws but the beast clamped down tighter. He let out an ear-piercing scream.

Obi-Wan was blinded by fury. He didn’t even know what he was doing, he just knew that Anakin was about to die and he could _not let that happen._

The beast froze.

Slowly, very slowly, the beast lowered Anakin to the ground. At Obi-Wan’s command, it released him. 

_He could kill it._ Some part of his mind reminded him that he shouldn’t but he knew he could and it would be easy.

The beast collapsed to the ground.

Obi-Wan fell to his knees beside Anakin. He was awake but clearly struggling to be, breathing shallowly around the steadily bleeding out holes in his abdomen.

Obi-Wan carried him back until Qui-Gon took over halfway to the ship.

They were able to keep him stable until they made it back to the Halls of Healing. The healers determined his wounds didn’t necessitate a bacta tank but the bites that marred his body were wrapped up in heavy layers of bacta-soaked gauze.

“What happened?” Qui-Gon finally asked.

“I... I took control of it. With the Force.” His body was still shaking with adrenaline, blood rushing in his ears. “I killed it.”

Qui-Gon looked at him with an unreadable expression. “Fully controlling something that wild should not have been possible for you.”

Obi-Wan was reading from a datapad when Anakin woke up a few hours later.

“You saved me.”

Obi-Wan shot up from his chair and rushed to Anakin’s bed. “Of course I did,” he said distractedly, smoothing a shaky hand over Anakin’s cheek just to make sure he was really alive and warm and safe. “Force, why are you so stupid?” 

“Hey,” Anakin protested, but he was smiling. “That’s not the way you treat someone who almost died.”

“Stop being so reckless,” Obi-Wan snapped. “You shouldn’t have gone after that thing alone.”

“You’re one to talk.” At Obi-Wan’s continued glare, Anakin shrugged. “It was fine. I knew I had you there.”

Obi-Wan buried his frustrated sigh into Anakin’s shoulder.

* * *

Of course, Obi-Wan wasn’t a stranger to getting himself into peril either.

He had been targeted from the very beginning. A handful of insurgents had worked hard to incapacitate him so they could drag him away from the thick of the fight to interrogate him about the King’s location. He was tied up, being screamed at in multiple languages with a knife drawing blood at his throat when Anakin burst in.

Through their bond Obi-Wan could feel Anakin’s rage burning like an inferno.

The knife clattered uselessly to the ground as all four of the insurgents grabbed at their throats.

Realization hit when one of the men dropped to the ground. “Anakin, stop!”

Anakin let them go, opening his fist and leaving four unconscious bodies slumped on the floor. He hurried over to cut Obi-Wan free from the ropes.

“What were you thinking?” Obi-Wan cried in disbelief. “You almost killed them!”

“Because they were going to kill you!” Anakin shot back, lip curling.

“You still can’t kill people, it’s against the Code!”

“But it was you!”

“So what?” 

Anakin's eyes glinted with something dangerous. “You matter more than the Code.”

Obi-Wan shook his head, feeling close to hysterical. “No. You can’t think that way.”

“But it’s true!” Anakin persisted. “They were going to kill you! What was I supposed to do?”

“Safely disarm them!”

“And what if that had taken too long? You had a _knife_ to your _throat_. You’re literally bleeding right now.”

“Anakin, you _can’t kill people._ ”

“I will never let you die.” Anakin said it like a vow, the implied threat heavy in the air.

“Come on,” Obi-Wan finally landed on saying, trying to push all of this to the back of his mind. There were more urgent matters. “We have to find Qui-Gon.”

* * *

“Where have you been all day?” Obi-Wan asked upon seeing Anakin enter the training room.

“At the Senate.”

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes but decided against saying anything about it. He knew Anakin was watching him but he ignored his gaze in favor of continuing his katas.

“Wanna spar?”

Obi-Wan deliberated it while he finished a set. With growing unrest across the Republic they’d been getting in most of their practice on assignments and hadn’t actually sparred in a while. Quickly making up his mind, he twirled his lightsaber into the Soresu starting form and looked over at Anakin expectantly. “Well? Are we doing this?”

Anakin ignited his own lightsaber with a smirk.

It was exhilarating, falling back into the familiar motions. They danced around the room in a well-practiced choreography, knowing each other’s movements so well that they could predict them effortlessly, perfectly matched. 

One particularly hard clash sent them flying backwards from the force of it. Anakin recovered first, not even bothering to grab his lightsaber before pouncing on top of Obi-Wan and trying to pin him down.

Obi-Wan managed to flip them easily with a sharp knee to Anakin’s stomach. He pressed all four of Anakin’s limbs into the ground with his full weight until Anakin finally gave in, grumbling all the while. “Whatever. That was totally unfair anyway.”

“You never leave someone’s legs unrestrained,” Obi-Wan chided, lifting his weight off Anakin to sit back and straddle his hips. He was feeling rather smug about his quick victory. “You made that far too easy.”

Anakin was looking up at him with something bordering on hunger in his eyes. Suddenly fingers were wrapping around Obi-Wan’s braid and _tugging_ , startling Obi-Wan into falling back on top of him with a gasp. They were so close; he could hear their mirrored breaths, could feel Anakin’s chest rising and falling with his own, could see the darker flecks of color in his blue eyes.

Anakin smiled at him with open fondness and he found himself smiling back. Anakin’s eyes went half-lidded as he started to lean up, and it almost seemed like, like he was—

Obi-Wan pushed himself up, banging his elbow into Anakin’s head in his haste. 

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin called after him. “Wait!”

His heart was hammering in his chest but he turned around anyway. “What?”

“Can I… can I talk to you about something?”

They ended up in their usual spot in the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

“I always used to feel like I could be the Chosen One,” Anakin started. “But now I’m not so sure. I’m not sure if I’m meant to be a Jedi.”

It wasn’t at all something Obi-Wan was expecting to hear. He shifted, rustling leaves in the process. “Of course you are. You’re the best Padawan the Order has seen in a long time.”

Anakin shook his head vehemently, face unexpectedly grave. “No, that’s you.” When Obi-Wan started to protest, Anakin talked over him. “I mean it! You practice and read and meditate all the time. You know everything about the Jedi and the Force. You’re wizard at mental compulsions. You’re _already_ a great diplomat. You’re like the perfect Jedi.”

Obi-Wan could feel his cheeks warming under the praise but he waved it away. “None of that equals your power in the Force. Qui-Gon has always believed you would become the best of us. For Force’s sake, Anakin, I wasn’t even chosen to be anyone’s Padawan. I am _not_ a perfect Jedi.” 

Anakin was quiet for several minutes. Obi-Wan could tell he was thinking hard about what he wanted to say next so he gave him all the time he needed.

“Maybe we’re not perfect Jedi,” Anakin conceded. “But you know how good we are together. How well we work together.” Anakin leaned in closer then, looking at him with wide, imploring eyes. “The Order is holding us back, Obi-Wan. Without the Order... we could do anything we wanted. We could... _be_ anything we wanted.”

Obi-Wan let out a humorless laugh, feeling something like alarm creeping in. “You’re talking like you plan to leave the Order.”

Something strange flickered across Anakin’s face. Apprehension crackled in the Force around them. 

“Obi-Wan, I need to tell you something.”

“Yes?”

“I’ve wanted to tell you how I feel for a long time—” Anakin cut himself off abruptly and didn’t finish the thought.

Obi-Wan reached a hand over and laced their fingers together, rubbing his thumb over Anakin’s knuckles in an attempt to calm his nerves. Anakin seemed grateful for it, clutching at his hand tightly. “It’s okay if you’re questioning your place in the Order. I can find some literature that might help you through this.”

Between one breath and the next Anakin was now completely closed off to him in the Force. Obi-Wan didn’t have time to ask why before Anakin was looking up at him with a smile that absolutely did not reach his eyes. “Yeah, that’d be great, Obi-Wan. Thank you.”

* * *

Obi-Wan felt a headache coming on as he walked down the hall. Increasingly Qui-Gon was bringing him into diplomacy discussions with the other Masters. He knew it was an honor, but it left him feeling exhausted and out of his depth. They’d spent the last few days unsuccessfully deciding how to intervene with an imminent civil war on one of the Core worlds.

Just as he started to open the door he heard a muffled yowl and the sound of something clattering to the floor on the other side. He entered the apartment with caution.

Anakin spun around and grinned at the sight of him. “Obi-Wan! You’re back.”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said slowly, “What’s that in your arms?”

“Well,” Anakin drawled, “You’ve been kinda sad and stressed lately, so I got you a pet to cheer you up. It’s a loth cat! I think. I found it hanging around outside Dex’s.” Anakin held out the creature in his arms. It hissed at Obi-Wan menacingly.

“I’m deathly allergic to loth cats,” Obi-Wan said.

Anakin’s face fell. “What?” 

Obi-Wan sneezed and it nearly sent Anakin into a panic.

He put up a hand to stop Anakin from rushing forward, _still holding the cat_. “Please return it to a nice shelter and disinfect everything in the apartment. I’ll be meditating if you need me.”

* * *

They had drifted apart in the months since Anakin turned eighteen.

Anakin had started frequenting the bars and cantinas that littered the lower levels of Coruscant. Obi-Wan had, of course, toured them himself when he turned eighteen and had many misadventures along the way, but he’d lost interest over time. Anakin was still persistent in trying to cajole Obi-Wan into going with him, but the thought of watching Anakin getting plastered and trying to find a hookup could not have filled him with more disdain.

Not that Obi-Wan had any reason to believe that was Anakin’s goal; Anakin never stumbled back into the apartment too late, rarely staying out for more than a few hours.

Qui-Gon, for his part, turned a blind eye to it. Somewhere along the way—probably quite a long time ago if Obi-Wan was being honest—he’d adopted a very hands-off approach to their training. 

“Varlo bailed on me for tonight,” Anakin complained as soon as he entered the apartment.

Obi-Wan didn’t look up from his datapad. “How unfortunate. Guess you’ll have to stay in and finally finish the dishes.”

“Are you _sure_ you don’t want to go out?” Anakin asked, something so tentatively hopeful in his voice that it made Obi-Wan look up. “I think we’d have fun.”

“Okay.”

“I know it’s not your scene anymore—what?”

Obi-Wan tossed his datapad aside and crossed the room to Anakin, whose eyes only widened more as he approached. “I said okay. Where are we going?

“Oh, um, we can go to one of my favorite cantinas.” Anakin’s face shifted from surprise to mischief. “The bartenders know me."

Anakin looked beautiful.

That was the first thought that popped into his head. Obi-Wan did not let himself acknowledge that fact often, but he had always been aware of the allure of his best friend’s defined jaw and delicately sharp cheekbones, his full lips and playful smile. As Anakin had grown older and more advanced in his training his shoulders had broadened, still tapering down into a narrow waist. His fitted plainclothes accentuated his form in a way their Jedi garb truly did not.

The cantina was significantly less beautiful, hazy with deathstick smoke and throbbing with loud music, but Anakin was in bright spirits, eagerly leading him over to the bar and introducing him to the bartender, and that kept him in a good mood.

They managed to talk with each other that night more easily than they had in months. Certainly the alcohol helped, but there was something about the seedy atmosphere, being far away from the Temple, sitting in plainclothes, that made him feel lighter and more free to laugh and smile than he had in a long time.

“Grass in his tea leaves? Just straight from the dirt?”

“I didn’t tell you this already?” Anakin said incredulously. “I’ve been doing it for two weeks. Just adding a little more every day.”

“He’s probably noticed and just doesn’t care. Grass being part of the Living Force and all.”

“You’re right, I’ve probably been making Qui-Gon’s day. Sith’s hells.”

“...wait, have you been putting grass in my tea leaves too?”

Anakin tried to look innocent and very much failed.

“Sleemo!”

“Hey! That’s my insult, _sleemo._ ”

A woman sidled up beside Anakin, leaning over the bar right next to his face. “Hey there.”

Anakin was happy to make a new friend, readily chatting with the Mirialan, but Obi-Wan immediately didn’t like her. Something about the way she was leaning so close to Anakin, dancing fingers up his arm, that made his skin crawl. Obi-Wan found himself placing a hand on Anakin’s lower back.

“Wanna be my lucky charm for a game of sabacc?” the woman asked. She flicked a look over at Obi-Wan.

Anakin spun around. “Obi-Wan, is it okay if I go with her? Just for one round.”

“You don’t have to ask me,” Obi-Wan said, dropping his hand from Anakin’s back and using it to pick up his drink.

Anakin grinned, hopping off his stool. “Try to make a friend while I’m gone!”

Obi-Wan didn’t have much time to sulk before a man in pilot’s gear took Anakin’s seat at the bar. When the bartender came over to get his order, the newcomer turned and smiled at Obi-Wan.

“Can I get you another drink?”

“You can,” Obi-Wan said, smiling back easily. 

“I’ll take two of whatever he’s got.”

Obi-Wan knew that the man was interested in him, and he also knew that he _wasn’t_ particularly interested in him, despite the man’s roguishly handsome face and hearty laugh, but he was enjoying himself and that was all that really mattered.

He was listening attentively to a piloting story when the man placed a hand on his thigh and started rubbing up and down, stroking along the inside of his thigh with his thumb.

It wasn’t long afterward that Anakin stalked up to them.

“Get out of here,” Anakin nearly growled at him. 

“Anakin, stop—”

The man stood up, almost chest to chest with Anakin. They stared each other down, some kind of silent posturing act going on between them. After a long and tense silence the man finally backed away with amusement stretching his lips. “Fine, I’ll get out of here.” He turned to Obi-Wan and his face softened into something more sincere. “Come back tomorrow without him. I’d like to see you again.”

Anakin bored holes into the back of the man’s head as he left. His lips were set in a way that was probably meant to be intimidating but only made him look like he was pouting. 

“What was that?”

Anakin's scowl deepened. “He was creepy.”

“He was nice. You wanted me to meet people.”

“Meet them, not fuck them!”

Obi-Wan was taken aback. He suddenly felt furious. “ _You_ ran off to pursue someone for the night and left _me_ alone! Now you’re upset because _I_ might have been pursuing someone?” 

“What?” Anakin scrunched up his nose and waved a hand away. “No. We were just talking.”

“And I was just talking to him!” Obi-Wan shouted, exasperated. “Before you ran him off!”

“He wasn’t just talking,” Anakin said darkly, glaring at a point over Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

Clearly nothing was getting through Anakin’s head right now. He could tell Anakin had probably had one too many drinks at the sabacc table and it was making him even more insufferable than normal. “Come on,” he said, grabbed his arm, “We’re going home.” 

Anakin dozed off in the air taxi, drooping his head onto Obi-Wan’s shoulder. Obi-Wan _tried_ to keep reminding himself that he was upset with him, but his resolve melted when Anakin fell into his lap, curling into his body in his sleep. He ran his fingers through Anakin’s cropped curls, letting himself indulge in petting that soft hair this one time, anonymous as they were in the dark Coruscant sky.

* * *

Anakin had mentioned Padmé over the years; had spoken fondly of the pretty, young Queen he had met before he arrived at the Jedi Temple, but Obi-Wan had never actually seen her until she arrived on Coruscant as a Senator representing Naboo.

She was stunning.

Intelligent eyes and an infectious smile, her beauty radiated in a way that Obi-Wan felt drawn to himself. He wasn’t surprised when she and Anakin hit it off upon their ten-year reunion and spent the next few days catching up, wandering around either the Temple or Senate and heading out to explore the markets together.

He wasn’t surprised, but he _was_ lying to himself when he swore it didn’t plant a seed of bitterness in his heart.

Four days after her arrival, Padmé found him stewing in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. “Obi-Wan Kenobi,” she greeted him with a pleasant smile. “Would you care to take a walk with me?”

Obi-Wan bowed his head in respect. “Of course, Senator Amidala. I would be honored.”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Padmé said as they started to stroll around the greenhouse. There was something like mirth dancing in her eyes. “Ani has spoken a lot about you.”

His stomach dropped. Of course. This was a chat about Anakin. Obi-Wan tried to school his expression into something polite. “We grew up together.”

Padmé gave a light laugh. “Yes, I know.” Her knowing smile made Obi-Wan feel like he was missing something. “He said you’re originally from Stewjon. You have the most beautiful summers there.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan was surprised by the change in topic but he was more than content to go along with it. “Well, I’ve lived on Coruscant since I was two years old, so I don’t remember the climate well.”

“You’ll have to visit one day soon. I traveled there as a teenager and fell in love with the royal gardens.”

Obi-Wan found he enjoyed her company more and more as they talked and he felt guilty for the distaste he’d been harboring. It wasn’t fair to her at all; besides, Anakin wasn’t his to be jealous over anyway.

“The Jedi seem to have strange ideas about love,” Padmé mused after a pleasant lull in conversation.

“Attachment is dangerous. If you love someone too strongly, you might value their life over the greater good. You might even act recklessly out of fear of losing them.”

“Is love not what keeps us connected to the greater good? I can love someone and also love my people,” Padmé reasoned. “I want to create a beautiful world for the person I love, which in turn creates a better world for my people. The fear of losing them only motivates me to work harder for a better world.”

Anakin. Was she talking about Anakin? Had they fallen in love in the few days since she’d arrived on Coruscant?

Obi-Wan swallowed around a lump in his throat. “The Jedi don’t think about it that way.”

Padmé hummed. “Maybe the Jedi are wrong about this. Tell me, Obi-Wan, has loving those close to you ever made you a worse Jedi?”

“I don’t have attachments,” Obi-Wan said automatically. Probably too quickly.

She gave him a long assessing look before she sighed. “This has been lovely, but I have a meeting to get to. Ani asked me to tell you to come up to your rooms. He has a surprise waiting for you.”

The main room was empty when he arrived. The surprise, he found, was waiting for him in his room.

A set of leather-bound books, wrapped in delicate gold ribbon, were stacked neatly on his bed. He picked them up, running a finger reverently over the engraved title.

A knock alerted him to Anakin’s presence. 

“The Journal of the Whills?” Obi-Wan looked up at him, astonished. “How did you…?”

“A lot of searching around the markets,” Anakin replied with a wink, stepping into his room. “I managed to negotiate down to a price I could afford. Well, Padmé negotiated.”

Even learning the books had been acquired on one of their dates did nothing to sour his mood, he was so awestruck by the books in his hands. The Great Jedi Library _supposedly_ had a copy of the first volume, but it was restricted access only. 

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said softly, “I don’t know what prompted this but I’m glad for it.”

And then, without warning, Anakin leaned in and kissed him. 

For a moment his brain failed him and he kissed back, letting his eyes drift closed and floating on the warm contented feelings that flowed through their bond.

But then his senses came back to him.

“No!” He pushed Anakin away, earning a startled look for his efforts. “I’m not going to let you practice kissing Padmé on me. Just go kiss her yourself.”

“What?” Anakin looked genuinely baffled. “I’m not practicing for Padmé!”

“Well you’ve sure spent a lot of time with a woman you don’t want to kiss.”

Anakin looked ready to deny it but then his face turned sheepish. “She’s become a good friend. The books were her idea, actually. I asked her for advice on how to… express my affections.”

Obi-Wan blinked. “To… Padmé?”

Anakin threw his hands up. “Not to Padmé! To you!”

Silence.

He couldn’t have heard right, this was about _Padmé_ , he wasn’t...

“What are you saying to me?” Obi-Wan said slowly.

Anakin’s face went through a range of emotions before it settled on something painfully earnest. When he spoke, every word was deliberate. “I’m saying I love you, Obi-Wan. I love you as my friend, but I also love you differently. I always have.”

Oh.

A lot of things made sense now. _Anakin_ made sense now. He’d just never expected to hear those words uttered from his mouth. Never thought that Anakin would choose _him_ to say those words to.

“Do you love me back?” Anakin asked quietly, locking eyes with him. He looked more vulnerable than Obi-Wan had ever seen him.

“I…” He was usually gifted with words, but he was struggling to say anything around his constricted throat. He hated himself for it. When he finally spoke his voice was a raw, pleading thing.

“Anakin, you know I do. You have to know.”

Anakin’s face lit up with the most beautiful smile. A surge of relief and elation flooding their bond and Obi-Wan matched it with his own tentative joy. As much as he was still reeling from Anakin’s confession he couldn’t help but smile back.

“I really want to kiss you again, but if I do you can’t pull away this time.”

Obi-Wan set the books down on his bed. He tilted his head up with the intention to kiss Anakin for the first time in his life, and hopefully not the last.

That night, Anakin asked Obi-Wan to hold him, and he didn't need any more persuading. 

There were obvious issues they still had to face. While _fraternizing_ was allowed between Jedi, attachments were not, and neither of them could deny that they were attached now. They’d discuss it all; how they planned to hide the nature of their relationship from the Council, what they wanted and needed from each other in this new and fragile thing. Obi-Wan needed to address Anakin’s growing willingness to leave the Order. But that could all wait until tomorrow.

Curling up around Anakin felt natural. The other way around Anakin was a menace, but this way Anakin was content to be pliant and let Obi-Wan position them into something comfortable. He kept trailing his fingers along Anakin’s stomach, tracing the old scars, in awe of how fiercely he loved the person in his arms now that he could freely admit it to himself. 

“I love you,” Anakin whispered into the dark. “You don’t have to say it back right now. But I wanted to remind you.”

Obi-Wan pulled Anakin more tightly into his chest and kissed his bare shoulder, quietly pouring all of his affection into the Force between them.


End file.
